Who's Lucy?
by elliotbennet
Summary: What if after returning from a mission a key member of the team is no longer a member of the team? Spoiler as to who in the title. How would the others react? Could they fix it? Would they fix it?
1. Chapter 1

**So we start with season 2 being the same until the final minutes of episode 3 . . . No Jessica. Let's break Wyatt's heart instead. Not that I don't think he's suffering too, but he is kind of annoying me with his behavior thus far in his handling of the Jess-Lucy dynamic so I am messing with him a little here. Maybe more than a little. So obviously, things progress a little differently – I'm not going to retell the missions from 2x4 and 2x5. We'll pick up when the team returns from bringing JFK back. I have changed a few things from before then (other than the Lucy-Wyatt dynamic which would obviously be different), but most of those will be revealed as the story unfolds. One that is essential to understand right away though is that in this version they added the extra seat before this return mission and Agent Christopher insisted on going with them to 1934 to provide extra back-up.**

Wyatt launched himself out of his seat and depressed the button for the door before any of the other occupants of the lifeboat had even registered the fact that they had landed back in the present. Not even waiting for the ladder to be put in to place, he jumped to the floor.

"Easy, Wyatt." Agent Christopher admonished from the doorway of the lifeboat. "I am sure Lucy is fine. Jiya will have taken good care of her. All she needed was rest and anti-biotics."

Jiya appeared then with the ladder for those not too impatient to wait. As the others filed down Wyatt headed toward the room he had left Lucy in only hours before, pale faced and in pain from a relapse of her fever and a tearing of her stitches thanks to their adventures with Emma on the hunt for JFK.

'How's Lucy? Has her fever broken?" he asked even as he was almost out of the room.

"Who's Lucy?"

Jiya's question bounced off the walls of the cavernous space as its meaning struggled to find purchase with the former occupants of the lifeboat. Wyatt stood frozen at the edge of the room, ready to go see her, to hold her and reassure himself of her health and vitality. This question put so much more than those things in jeopardy. He turned slowly and saw the rest of the team regarding Jiya with a mixture of shock, concern and disbelief. Finally, Agent Christopher spoke.

"Jiya, is there a historian on our team?"

"Before . . . but he was . . killed. You don't remember Martin?" Jiya asked. When they all continued to look at her with blank, worried expressions she continued. "After Martin died we decided to do things differently. We have a number of consultants who brief the team before missions, but they aren't read in to the whole time travel thing – they just think they are working on a government historical preservation project. Do you want their names?"

Even as she said this Jiya was tapping away on her tablet.

"So stuff changed huh? This was different in the timeline before you left?" She asked continuing to look at whatever her screen was telling her. "There was someone else here with us in the bunker? Someone who went on missions?"

Everyone looked to Wyatt, expecting him to answer. He hadn't moved from his spot by the door. His head was down so no one could read his expression, but his relationship with Lucy was no secret so while they all loved her in their own way everyone expected him to take the lead in unraveling this unexpected, unwanted and unbelievable predicament. But he remained silent, still.

"Yes." Flynn said at last. "Lucy Preston."

"Lucy Preston?" Jiya asked looking up from her tablet. Then a moment later. "Yes, she is one of our consultants. The one we use most often if these numbers are right."

There was a collective sigh of relief. She existed. She was alive. At this Wyatt moved toward the group.

"But why wouldn't she have been brought in? What changed?" Rufus asked.

"Since we know Lucy had been placed on the team because of her Rittenhouse connection maybe her family isn't Rittenhouse in this timeline?" Wyatt posed.

"One of our consultant's family is Rittenhouse?" Jiya asked with incredulity. "What if she's a spy for them?"

"She's not." Wyatt said with certainty. "I don't care what else has changed in this timeline Lucy would never."

"Why don't we move this conversation somewhere a little more . . ." Agent Christopher started to suggest. Perhaps she wanted to say comfortable but there was really no place in the bunker that deserved that description. Regardless, Wyatt was in no mood for a change of venue.

"No, we need to figure this out now." he bit out. Rufus laid a hand on his shoulder whether to restrain or comfort Wyatt wasn't sure. Maybe Rufus wasn't sure either.

"Is Carol Preston part of Rittenhouse?" Wyatt asked. "Benjamin Cahill?"

"Do you mean Carol and Benjamin Cahill – THE Cahills? They are Rittenhouse royalty. They are this person's, Lucy's, parents and you are saying you think she might not be Rittenhosue?" Jiya scoffed.

"They were her parents in our timeline too." Wyatt retorted. "Although apparently with a name change."

"How could we even know about them without Lucy?" was among the many questions the team had for Jiya.

In the end Agent Christopher did persuade them, really only Wyatt resisted any delay in gaining information that would lead to finding Lucy, to sit at the kitchen table. Connor joined them as soon as they sat down and was brought up to speed on the current situation.

Connor and Jiya knew nothing else about Lucy. Carol and Benjamin were a Rittenhouse leaders and had brought back Nicholas Keynes back from the early nineteenth century just like before. He was now, they all assumed, calling the shots. They had not been able to capture the hundreds of Rittenhouse agents and cripple their organization as in the other timeline because there was no Lucy to come up with the plan and convince her grandfather to participate. Instead Emma had double-crossed Flynn and taken the mothership after he blew up the Rittenhouse meeting in 1954. Flynn had then thrown himself on the mercy of Wyatt's team, whom he helped save from Emma and hers. Shortly thereafter Rittenhouse blew up Mason Industries in an attempt to destroy the Lifeboat. And on and on with the differences, the similarities but Wyatt could only focus for so long. Agent Christopher was more interested in finding out the state of Rittenhouse than finding Lucy and while he could hardly blame her he had his own priorities. He stayed through the briefing only because he felt like any information would be helpful at this point. In addition, he had taken Rufus' tablet and while he half-listened to the conversation he googled Lucy.

He learned that she was a history professor at Stanford, had won a ton of awards whose names meant nothing to him, but still he was impressed and proud. She had still authored the book on Booth, but there was a new one on the suffragette movement. He hesitated to look at her social media. Knowing it would provide the most personal information, he was nevertheless afraid of what he would find. She was still everything to him, but to her he had never existed – he wasn't sure he could view that live and in color. Her life without him.

"She's at our bar."

"What?" Wyatt asked, not knowing who Rufus was talking about as he waved his phone at him.

"Lucy, she's at the bar we used to go to sometimes before we were quarantined in this charming facility." Rufus explained.

"How do you know?" The ever-practical Agent Christopher asked.

"Instagram."

"The place on Market?" Wyatt clarified already rising from his chair.

Rufus nodded, but before Wyatt could make good his escape Agent Christopher blocked his path.

"Wyatt, what do you think you're doing? What would you even say to her?"

Not interested in such concrete planning Wyatt brushed past the older woman.

"She hasn't experienced any of this. She doesn't know who you are." She continued. "She's not your Lucy."

Each word was like an armor piercing round, but he refused to let the pain, the truth stop him. He had to get to her, but Christopher was in front of him again.

"Don't try and stop me." He growled. "I have given you everything you asked. I have been a good soldier and I will come back, but you cannot ask me to stay away from her right now. Knowing she is out there, knowing . . . I can't. I won't. I have lost her before, but not like this. I don't know if I can handle this. I need to . . . I need to find out. And I can't do that here. I can't sit here . . . wondering."

Agent Christopher regarded him in silence for a moment.

"Be careful. Rittenhouse is still out there and possibly more powerful than in our timeline. Whatever happens, come back to us." She said at last. "We are the only ones who know, who can understand even a little." Her voice was gentle, but not, he noted, hopeful.

Twenty minutes later Wyatt exited his Uber two blocks from the bar. He made his way there, constantly checking behind him. Once inside he scanned the room. All thoughts of Rittenhouse and time travel left his mind. There she was. Sitting alone at the bar. She looked stunning. No remnants of a seventeenth century infection or of exhaustion from having run around town chased by a persistent would-be killer. Perhaps this life was better for her. He brushed that treasonous thought aside.

He watched her sip her beer. It was the same brand she always drank with him and Rufus. The same brand he begged Agent Christopher to get for the bunker. Her clothes he didn't recognize but the style was distinctly Lucy. He just have stood there watching for a half an hour as his thoughts closed in on themselves. Here she was – successful, safe from the crazy mixed up world he inhabited. Could this be a better way for Lucy? Then a good-looking guy came up to her and touched her arm. Wyatt's heart broke. His head dropped and he took a breath to steady himself. He couldn't take all of this from her. Not if she was happy. She deserved a life where she had all of things that everyone dreams of – a good career, someone to love and you know, nobody trying to kill you all the time.

When he looked up again, to get one last look before he left her, maybe for good, he saw she was alone again. He was so surprised he involuntarily stepped closer. Close enough to hear the bartender as he handed her another beer.

"Another one bites the dust." He laughed. "I think that makes 4 tonight alone, Luce. What was wrong with this one?"

"Nothing is wrong with any of them, Jim" she said. Wyatt wished he could see her face. Her voice sounded . . . hollow. "It's me, it's always me."

Without meaning to, without at all planning to, Wyatt found himself standing next to the empty seat beside Lucy. Standing so close to her he came back to his senses. Only because it took all of his will power not to reach out and touch the skin of her neck. It was one of his favorite spots. He knew how soft it was, knew how she would lean in to him when he kissed her there.

"Can I help you?" It wasn't her voice that broke through his thoughts, it was the bartender's. Jim. He was looking at Wyatt looking at Lucy likely expecting him to be another poor soul gently spurned by her, at least he hoped she was gentle.

Turning to Lucy he saw that she was watching him with wary curiosity. Her eyes, usually so expressive, showed only this mild interest. But of course what else could a stranger inspire? His heart lurched. He was a stranger to her. That he could not let stand.

"Is this seat taken," he asked with his best smile, his most charming voice and then hoping against hope that all Lucys had something in common added, "ma'am?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing, favoriting or following. It is always encouraging to know if my writing is entertaining someone.**

 **I kind of want to rant a little about this week's episode but as it is not really connected to my story . . . I'll just say – I love Flynn's character and the way they have developed him as an individual and with the team but if they try and put him and Lucy together romantically I do not think I could handle it! Ok rant over – sorry!**

"Ma'am, really?" she asked, a familiar annoyed smile crossing her face. "You and I have got to be about the same age. And you think calling me ma'am is going score you come points?"

Wyatt almost missed what she said. He was so lost in her eyes, her scent, the tilt of her head as she admonished him. It was all so familiar, so achingly familiar. How he stopped himself from reaching out and drawing her in to his arms he had no idea.

"It's a sign of respect." He countered, dimpled half smile firmly in place. Lucy had confessed how very much she loved his smile and so he would use it now. He would use any and every thing. To do what, he wasn't yet entirely sure, but for now to prolong this conversation.

"Oh you respect me?" she scoffed. "That seems a bit hasty. I could be a bank robber, an identity thief, a truly rotten person from a long line of truly rotten people totally unworthy of respect."

Wyatt couldn't be certain, this wasn't, entirely, his Lucy but he felt too much truth in her last words.

"I doubt that." He said, taking the seat beside her. "But why don't you tell me about yourself and I'll let you know." This was said without any pretense, no smirk, no games. He needed to hear her tell him who she was and find out how he could become part of her life again. Because really that was the only way this could go. The only way it could have gone ever since Jiya uttered those horrible words in the bunker merely hours ago. There was no world where he could live without Lucy by his side, without being by her side. Whatever it looked like, whatever it took.

"Sure, let me tell you everything about me and then you can tell me if I am worthy of respect or not." she agreed with a not insignificant amount of derision.

He shouldn't love her disdain this much, but he did. She was engaging with him and that was enough – more than enough for now.

"Not quite what I was imagining but if that's what you want, okay." Now the smirk was back.

She huffed, turned her back to him and signaled the bartender to bring her another beer. But she didn't get up and walk away. Although he didn't ask, when Jim gave Lucy hers Wyatt ordered one of his own.

"I'll have what she's having."

"I'll have what she's having," Lucy mocked. "Seriously? So far I am unimpressed with your game."

Wyatt laughed gently, "I can't help it if we have the same taste in beer."

He regarded her quietly. This Lucy was certainly more irritable. Although to be fair he was intentionally pushing her buttons just to be sure she'd fight with him as opposed to blow him off. As he sat and wondered how to back off from the antagonistic rapport he'd established he didn't realize he had been looking at her a little too long.

"And now we've moved on to the creepy serial killer staring portion of the evening I see." She said, but instead of turning away again as he would have expected she faced him more fully and seemed to really look at him for the first time. Wyatt met her gaze, was pierced through as her chocolate eyes looked into his and he saw there was no spark, no recognition, no warm glow of shared memories and moments. This was worse than any torture he could remember enduring. To be here with her, but not with _her_. He hardly noticed as her perusal went from his face to the rest of him and then returned to look him in the eyes once again.

"I've offended _you_ somehow?" she asked with marked incredulity when he remained silent in the face of her words and obvious perusal.

"No . . . I," Wyatt struggled for words, for anything to make this make sense. "Maybe this was a mistake." He meant to stand and leave, but his limbs wouldn't listen.

"You're one of them, aren't you?"

"One of who?"

Before answering she looked him over once more. Up and down and then in his eyes again for a long moment. Wyatt did not know how much more he could take staring into the eyes of the woman he loved and seeing her look back at him as if he was just some guy at a bar hitting on her, some guy whose life, whose heart and soul she didn't hold in the palm of her hand. It hurt more than he could have imagined.

"You're a soldier." She said, "and not my type at all which is maybe them trying to fool me. Smart. Most handsome one they've sent thus far I'll give them that. Is the plan to kidnap me if I don't come willingly?"

These seemingly unrelated questions and facts were stated and asked with apparent absolute indifference. But Wyatt knew Lucy, even this Lucy, and she was scared. Scared of him? Just when he thought his heart couldn't break any more.

"What is it you think I am?"

"Rittenhouse."

Understanding dawned, but before Wyatt could process what that meant, for this Lucy, for this time period, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and heard glass shattering. Throwing himself to the floor as he grabbed Lucy from her stool he rolled them beside the bar.

"Stay down." He ordered, drawing his gun before he saw that this was a fight he could not win. Out of a black car on the curb at least 6 armed men were making their way into the bar as patrons ran screaming. A man lay dead from a bullet Wyatt thought might have been meant for him. He turned to the woman who had brought him to this place, the woman he would die for, the one he lived for.

"Lucy, I know you have no reason to trust me but please come with me." He held out his hand even as his mind mapped out their best plan for escape and mentally walked them through it.

She quickly looked from his eyes to his hand and back again. Fear, uncertainty and desperation all played across her face. Finally, she placed her hand in his. As he yanked her up and toward the rear exit she said quietly, "I never told you my name."


	3. Chapter 3

Wyatt's mind was clear for the first time since hearing Jiya's terrible words. Dodging bullets, judging exit points, hot wiring a car – protecting Lucy. These were things he could do without thinking. His training, his experience and his instincts took over and for the few minutes it took to get them from the bar into a "borrowed" SUV and on the road, at a slightly higher than average speed, his mind was full of nothing more than tactics, contingencies and probabilities. He wondered what it said about him that he vastly preferred this mental clutter to the kind that had dogged him the past few hours. He used the ride back to the bunker to try and get some answers.

She was understandably tight-lipped - more inclined to ask questions than answer them.

"Why were you in that bar? Why did you take me with you? Where are we going? Why is Rittenhouse after you? How do you know my name?"

One of the many things that gutted Wyatt since this whole mess began was Lucy needing an explanation as to how he knew her. Here he was loving her, needing her and she was wondering how he even knew her name. It was almost too much. Until he switched back to soldier mode and thought about routes and potential tails. He found refuge in the numbness these things provided and put his heart on hold. As much as that was possible.

"How about we make a deal." He said taking a sideways glace at her as he took a sharp left. This was a mistake. Both the glance and the sudden turn. The glance because Lucy looked just the same as his Lucy and he was just as affected by her beauty and the turn because it threw her towards him for a moment – why wasn't she wearing a damn seatbelt?. He was also just as affected by her unique scent which was also apparently the same – vanilla and strawberries. A high end shampoo she favored that he mocked her mercilessly about. It was $20 a bottle! His senses were trying to force him back to thoughts, feelings and memories best left unexamined. He pushed ahead. "For every question of yours I answer, you answer one of mine."

"Very well." She answered demurely settling herself back into the passenger seat and, he noted with satisfaction, buckling up. "What's your name?"

"Wyatt, Wyatt Logan." That was not where he expected her to start. Then he saw her taping away on her phone. "You googling me?"

"Absolutely." She confirmed. "You go ahead and ask your question." she encouraged without looking up.

Wyatt was not going to waste his questions.

"What do you know about Rittenhouse?"

"Super secret, super evil organization that both sides of my family have been a part of for generations." She stated still intent on the screen of her phone. "Would you like more or do already know enough about them yourself, Master Sergeant and are simply wondering how much I know or better yet whether I am a wiling participant?"

So she had found his military record. "Willing participant?" he asked, emphasizing the first word.

"No, it is my turn." She countered meeting his eye as he glanced over. He never could deny her anything, any version of those eyes were going to get their way with him so he did not point out that she really didn't answer his question. "Where are we going?"

"A government site that is unknown to Rittenhouse where operatives who have been working against them for some time are located." There. That was truthful, might offer some reassure and also not freak her out with the whole time travel thing.

"Willing participant?" he definitely wanted that one explained.

"My family revealed my dynastic destiny at my very swanky sixteenth birthday party. Rittenhouse royalty. Isn't it great. Come join the fold and take over the world, undermine democracy and progress with us – you know the family that is evil together stays together and all that."

When she seemed disinclined to continue Wyatt pressed her.

"And what did you do?"

"After I begged them to tell me it was all some sick joke? I ran away. I ran to my aunt in Boston. They actually let me stay with her on the east coast through the rest of high school, then I stayed out there for college and post grad and there was no Rittenhouse talk during my infrequent communication with my parents. I thought maybe I had blown it all out of proportion. But regardless I loved my life, I was close with my aunt and her family. Then all of sudden a few years ago my aunt was killed in an accident and a few months later I got a job offer from Stanford." She paused her and seemed to gather herself. " I should have been suspicious, but . . . well anyway I wasn't. Again, nothing happened other than a welcome home party with a bunch of the same creeps from my sweet sixteen. No mention of my evil destiny though. Then last year . . . well let's just say the recruiting began in earnest. I began to see what they were capable of and I'm not sure how much longer they will take hell no for an answer."

Wyatt was trying to process these revelations on several different levels. Trying to understand the pain Lucy had been and was currently in. That would always be his first thought – for her and how anything affected her. But in this case there was another her to consider. He was trying to grasp this timeline to understand how his Lucy got lost. Then of course there was the intelligence about Rittenhouse – any piece of information about how they operated would always get filed away for later use in the ongoing quest to bring them down permanently.

"Will I be safe," she asked, her voice small for the first time since he had met her. "Where you are taking me, will I be safe?"

"Yes." He said risking a long glance at her so she could read the sincerity in his eyes. "You will always be safe with me." She held his gaze for a moment, tilted her head to the side as if puzzling something out and then nodded.

"What's your favorite movie?" he asked. He didn't want to force her to revisit any more painful memories or consider dire consequences so Wyatt decided to lighten the tone of the Q & A.

"It Happened One Night."

"Some things never change." He laughed.

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind." Wyatt said quickly. "Your turn."

"Who is John Wilkes Booth's older brother?"

That seemed an odd question, although maybe not, this was Lucy.

"Edwin Booth." He answered and then added, "at one time the most famous actor in America."

Lucy nodded thoughtfully at this.

"Favorite meal?" He asked.

"My aunt used to make the most amazing chili. I have never been able to get it exactly right, but I come close. So hers is first and my version is second. I love chili."

As did Wyatt's Lucy but he was able to keep from reacting this time. She probably already thought he was a crazy person so in the interest of not scaring her further he tried to keep his behavior more firmly in the normal camp – as in don't act like you're are riding in a car with an alternate timeline version of the woman you love. Time machine problems.

"Who were the other men who warned the colonists of the coming British Army alongside Paul Revere?"

Again with the history? Maybe it was her way of calming down after dealing with so much in one evening Wyatt decided. They had never traveled to Colonial Boston but his Lucy was thinking about writing a book on some of the Sons of Liberty who laid the foundation for the rebellion against Britain for years before the actual revolution. Paul Revere among them.

"Samuel Prescott and William Dawes." He stated proudly. Being in love with a historian really did turn you in to a geek.

"What do you like to do for fun?" he asked.

She listed a few things that were familiar to him – reading, yoga, biking and board games. But then she added karate and he looked at her in surprise.

"Who was Lydia Taft?" She asked and this time he had the feeling she suspected he knew the answer. He did. Again, even though they hadn't traveled to her time period his Lucy had been researching to write a book on the women's suffrage movement before she was dragged into Mason Industries one fateful night. So she had read him a lot of her notes and draft chapters.

"The first women to cast a legal vote in the United States. Although I guess it wasn't the Untied States yet – 1756 or 57 wasn't it?"

They had arrived at the bunker. Wyatt pulled around behind the building and into the underground garage.

"Is the reason you know me but I don't know you because of time travel?"

Wyatt turned the car off and took a breath before he looked at her. Lucy didn't look scared only concerned.

"Why would you say something like that?"

"You didn't answer my question." She pointed out, but then answered his anyway. "My parents have been ranting about changing history for . . . well ever but then five or six years ago – about the time my aunt died and I got that job offer the way they talked about it started to change. And then one night when my Mom was trying to pitch me the family business again she said something strange about being able to experience history. My father shut her down after that and they actually backed off of me for a few months. And then I get called in to consult on a government project – researching historical events. It all felt very connected. I'm not exactly sure how. It would seem out of the realm of possibility but Rittenhouse is so powerful and their drive to control everything so absolute. Then one day last week I stopped by my parents house to borrow some of my Mom's notes for some research. When I was looking through her closet I found all of these clothes. They were from different time periods and they had been worn, some had tears and dirt on them. Things she would never do to vintage pieces. And that was the other thing, they weren't old and yet they seemed, in every way I could tell, authentic but even the British soldier's uniform from the eighteenth century wasn't faded, or aged at all."

They sat in silence for a minute as Wyatt thought about Lucy uncovering these clues, wondering what it all could mean and fearing the conclusion she was coming to.

"And then there's you." She continued. "You clearly know me. You knew my name at the bar, but you could have overheard that. You care what happens to me and I have no idea why. You know all of my favorites and if I try to sneak a fake one by you and you know random historical facts I doubt most thirty-something soldiers know unless they are well acquainted with a historian who talks too much on certain subjects."

"You never talk too much." Wyatt said with a smile.

Even though she was the one to suggest it Lucy seemed genuinely taken aback at his tacit admission. After a deep breathe she asked. "So we meet sometime in the future?"

Of course, a time travel explanation could never be that simple. This Lucy might understand, theoretically, the idea of time travel but what would she say to the idea that he was in love with another version of her and he would very much like to get that version back? Maybe less was more at this point.

"Something like that." Wyatt hedged. "Shall we go inside?"


End file.
